In spite of its comic possibilities, I've ignored the Bundy Ranch freak show until today. Why? Because of the armed doofi and militiamen hanging out with the deadbeat patriot, that's why. Now that the threat of Hannity inspired violence has somewhat receded, it's time to make Cliven Bundy malaka of the week. Come on down, cowpoke.
The other reason to give the malakatude crown of throrns to the pudgy scofflaw is the quote heard round the world, or the internet at least:
“I want to tell you one more thing I know about the Negro,” he said. Mr. Bundy recalled driving past a public-housing project in North Las Vegas, “and in front of that government house the door was usually open and the older people and the kids — and there is always at least a half a dozen people sitting on the porch — they didn’t have nothing to do. They didn’t have nothing for their kids to do. They didn’t have nothing for their young girls to do.
“And because they were basically on government subsidy, so now what do they do?” he asked. “They abort their young children, they put their young men in jail, because they never learned how to pick cotton. And I’ve often wondered, are they better off as slaves, picking cotton and having a family life and doing things, or are they better off under government subsidy? They didn’t get no more freedom. They got less freedom.”
This quote via the NYT's Adam Nagourney conclusively establishes that, like his new best friend Sean Hannity, Cliven Bundy is a meathead: dead from the neck up. I briefly contemplated skipping past the irony of the welfare rancher dissing anyone else for being on "guvmint subsidy" but it is irresistible. Bundy, like most teabaggers, lives in what Ray Davies has called a "fantasy world of celluloid villains and heroes." He thinks life is a bad John Wayne Western (not one of the films he made with Ford or Hawks, it's more like McClintock wherein the Duke spanked Maureen O'Hara) and that he's the hero slaying the eebil BLM. I call bullshit on that shit: in addition to being a racist malaka, Bundy is all hat and no cattle. The Feds are now focused on judicial means to lasso the renegade rancher who probably thinks this book is about him:
Still, as Mr. Bundy surveyed the dusty landscape last weekend, the only sign of law enforcement was Brad Rogers, the sheriff of Elkhart County, Ind., who had flown 1,800 miles to stand in solidarity with the embattled rancher.
What the blue hell? First of all, patrol your own meth-ridden hick-haven county, you asshole. The taxpayers you claim to revere don't pay you to grandstand out of state.
Second, this LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICIAL sees nothing wrong with an armed resistance to the government:
Rogers is an outspoken critic of federal government overreach. He says he took an interest in the Nevada case because it has the potential to affect those in Elkhart County as well.
YOU ARE THE GOVERNMENT. Or is this one of those things where you wish the county sheriff holds all the power and can tax the people in the name of Prince John?
Look, if these nutjobs want to stage a peaceful sit-in in protest of a law they believe is unjust, I believe they should be able to do that. But when they show up packing heat, determined to start a firefight, that's where it becomes a wee bit different from the claims of "civil disobedience" they're vomiting all over the press.
If this rancher was a young black man in a housing project refusing to pay his rent, these assholes would be demanding Obama send in the 101st. And if any law enforcement official stood up for that kid, he'd be unable to leave his house without body armor thanks to the very same whackjobs now claiming the government's tyranny is forcing them to gun up.
|From Album 5|
But it doesn't hurt. No, really: Show Me State wingers are holding impeachment hearings against Democratic Governor Jay Nixon, with one charge being he apparently thinks "certified crazy" is sufficient grounds to deny the "right" to pack concealed heat.
OK, maybe it's just me but...wow...that's bugfuck insane.
Senator Aqua Buddha is in trouble with the Reagan worshippers in the GOP base. Why? He was caught on video saying that Saint Ronnie wasn't perfect. Who knew that Ronnie blew up the budget deficit and raised taxes? I do but your average delusional wingnut does not or refuses to acknowledge it. Thanks to that estimable video hound David Corn for posting more of, Rand's heretical musings at Mother Jones.
In my book, Aqua Buddha's real crime was wearing this sweater vest, mock turtleneck combination whilst speaking at Western Kentucky University in April of 2009:
What did those students ever do to you, Senator? It's a combination so hideous that not even Mad Men's sweater loving Ted Chaough would be caught dead wearing it. I gotta say that the sight of that brown argyle sweater vest over a mock turtleneck leaves me no choice but to mock the whole ugly outfit. And you want to be President? This is the worst thing I've seen a potential Oval One wear since Bill Clinton wore short shorts while jogging during the 1992 race. This is what happens when your party is anti-gay...
Okay, I'm done channeling Tim Gunn. That is all.
Even in this Age of Permanent Gas-baggery, when the signal-to-noise ratio is approaching the win-loss ratio of the 1962 Mets, the mindlessness of the Baby Clinton conversation has made CNN’s search for the Malaysian airplane look like a model of thoughtful analysis. I would cheerfully give a significant three-figure sum to any talking head who, when asked to opine on the earthshaking consequences of Chelsea’s pregnancy, would channel John McEnroe: “You cannot be serious!”
Full blown Clinton Derangement Syndrome (CDS) is back and worse than ever. There have even been mutterings on the right that "those people" never do anything without calculating the political consequences. That sounds as if Hill and Bill tell Chelsea and her hubby when they should have sex and when they should use contraception. It's all a gynormous plot to make Hillary more sympathetic. It clearly has nothing to do with a couple in their 60's wanting to have grandchildren. The Clintons are NOT ordinary people except when it suits the nutters to treat them as such. Of course, they probably think that Vincent Foster is the baby's real grandpa even thought that means Hillary had an affair with a man instead of being sapphic. The crazy goes on and on and on.
In addition to CDS, this whole idiotic flap illustrates the casual sexism that remains prevalent. We don't hear a lot about grandparentage affecting male candidates and making them all hormonal and shit. Willard Mittbot Romney has a passel of kids and grandchirren and nobody ever wondered about how it would impact his fantasy Presidency. Why? Because it wouldn't. I don't think that Hillary will suddenly start quilting or granny blogging just because Chelsea's going to be a mommy.
I wish I could say that this will all blow over but we know it won't. The nutters know how to use the interweb and they have a whole cable network dedicated to this nonsense. The mere mention of Hillary's name gets them salivating and concocting bizarre conspiracy theories. BENGHAZI. BENGHAZI.
I was one of those Democrats who supported Obama in the 2008 primaries because I hoped CDS would be a thing of the past. Instead of CDS we got ODS with the right painting the Clintons as the "good, moderate" Democrats as opposed to the Marxist/Nazi/Mau Mau dude. Given how crazy the current GOP is, there's only one syndrome: Democratic President Derangement Syndrome.
Welcome to the not so brave, not so new world of DPDS.
Layla is Eric Clapton's signature song, and the centerpiece of his greatest album by far. Clapton proves the adage that you've got to suffer to play the blues. All I can say is that booze, heroin, and suffering led to a helluva album featuring, of course, the guitar work of the late, great Duane Allman.
The album cover is a painting by French artist, Frandsen De Schonberg. The painter was the father of a friend whose house the band had stayed in when playing in France. Clapton chose this particular painting for the album cover because it reminded him of Pattie Boyd-Harrison, the inspiration for the title song. Eric Clapton had fallen madly in love with friend George Harrison’s wife and her rejection is at least partially credited with pushing Clapton into his heroin addiction. Ironically, the couple married in 1979, but Pattie divorced Clapton in 1988 as a result of his heroin addiction and alcoholism.
It was relatively easy to find a good scan of the cover, but that was not the case with the back cover or the interior photo montage. In short, I muddled through.
Here's the back cover:
Here's the interior gatefold:
Finally, the whole consarn album:
Patton: There is no such thing as the absolute most perfect person. There’s no such thing. I know that in your 25-year-old world you believe that there is, but there just isn’t. … What you want in a mate and in a partner will change and evolve over time, and what might feel like the most absolute best perfect love of your life at 25 may not feel that way at 30, and what feels like the most perfect love of your life at 30 may not feel so wonderful at 40.
Fallon: But if we change so much throughout our 20s, why should we get married at the beginning of them?
Patton: Because the best you can do is to find yourself a husband or a life partner who shares your love of learning, shares your core values, shares your fundamental vision for a life plan and you grow and evolve through the decades together. It’s easier to do it together than do it alone alone, for most people.
Fallon: But that isn’t born out in the divorce statistics.
Patton: Well, divorce happens 50% of the time…
Fallon: And the risk goes down the longer you wait to marry.
Patton: No, I think that …
Fellow old people, can we please stop pretending that everybody who is not one of us olds is the same? There are 25-year-olds with vastly more life experience than I will ever have, so stop watching Girls and thinking this is what they're all like. Most of the loathing of unmarried women just comes off as jealous old hags chiding young ladies for having the drinks and the sexing, and it's so obnoxious.
What the hell is she even talking about here? "There's no such thing as a perfect mate, so make a spreadsheet and tally up all the ways you and Prepster McChipperson are similar, and get hitched based on that?" This is somebody whose whole THING is about how young women need to find love. This sounds about as romantic as tongue-kissing your taxes.
Don't get me wrong, I rail all the time against the idea that there is only one perfect mate for each and every person. If you build that shit up in your head you will be absolutely flabbergasted when you or your spouse is attracted to someone else after you're married. What are these feelings? I thought I was finished now that I've found True Love (tm Kay Jewelers). And instead of correctly interpreting your sudden wild desire to bend the sandwich girl over the counter as human nature, and your feelings as feelings and not imperatives, you'll fuck your life up flatter than hammered shit.
(I am not romantic. I am the person who watches Sleepless in Seattle and yells at Annie to stay with Walter. Walter is the only person in that movie who's not an asshole.)
But that doesn't mean you shouldn't want to find someone you love to spend your life with. That doesn't mean it's naive or only exists in a "25-year-old world," whatever that is. That doesn't mean that by X age you need to marry somebody you've matched credit scores with.
That certainly doesn't mean her unoriginal bullshit is worthy of every morning news program in the country:
It was now clear that, unlike the producers of the nation’s most highly rated news programs, Fallon and I had done a little research. Savannah Guthrie might have frowned when Patton said that high-school girls should consider cosmetic surgery before starting college and that women were responsible for preventing their own sexual assault, but she never challenged her on the facts. Patton was allowed to simply recite her talking points, piss off the peanut gallery and go home.
I honestly don’t have a problem with Patton herself. I think she sincerely believes her advice is beneficial to women. And like the kooky aunt at the wedding, she has the right to say what she likes.
My problem is with a culture that gives a megaphone to a woman with nothing to offer but retrograde opinions and no facts to support them. My problem is with national newspapersthat treat the statement “men won’t buy the cow if the milk is free” as an argument worthy of its op-ed page. My problem is with television news producers who can’t be bothered to do a quick Google search before inviting an anti-feminist boogie-woman on the air.
My blog post about Patton was entirely unoriginal, as it merely repeated information that had been published in The New York Times, The Atlantic.com, Salon, Forbes.com and Slate. The women in the audience at Princeton were fact-checking the event on their laptops in real time—why couldn’t anyone at NBC/Universal do the same?
I work in public relations at Cook Children's. It’s my job to be on social networking sites, peruse the internet and keep up with the latest Apps offered on smartphones. It’s a great job and I love what I do, but over the last couple years, I have learned so much about the dangers of Smart Phone Apps. It’s downright scary.
So is your Random Capitalization.
Technology, especially if you’re a little behind the times, can be very deceptive. Your kids may be downloading Apps that you think are innocent and just a simple way for them to keep in contact with their buddies, but unfortunately, this isn’t always the case.
- Yik Yak – This App is one of the newest and one of the most dangerous. It allows users to post text-only Yaks of up to 200 characters. The messages can be viewed by the 500 Yakkers who are closest to the person who wrote the Yak, as determined by GPS tracking. Users are exposed to – and contributing -sexually explicit content, abusive language and personal attacks so severe that schools are starting to block the App on their Wi-Fi. Although the posts are anonymous, kids start revealing personal information as they get more comfortable with other users.
As they do in locker rooms, the lunch table, and during cheerleading practice! BAN ALL COMMUNICATION.
SnapChat – This App allows users to send photos that will disappear after 10 seconds. Once the recipient opens the picture, the timer starts. Then it’s gone. From both the sender's phone and the recipient’s phone. However, the recipient can take a screen shot of the photo and have it to share with others. This App enables kids to feel more comfortable “sexting” with peers.
Or it enables kids to ... send photos that will disappear after 10 seconds. What is in those photos is up to the kids, and if their parents didn't raise irresponsible little sociopathic shitheads, they've got nothing to worry about.
That alone doesn't scare me. What does scare me is that these kids aren't using condoms because Jesus doesn't like birth control.
Whisper – This is a meeting App that encourages users to post secrets. You post anonymously, but it displays the area you are posting from. You can search for users posting within a mile from you. A quick look at the App and you can see that online relationships are forming constantly on this App, but you never know the person behind the computer or phone. One man in Washington was convicted of raping a 12-year-old girl he met on this App just last year.
And if he'd raped a girl he met at the library, would we be hearing about how libraries are dangerous and you need to delete them from your communities?
Omegle – This App has been around since 2008, with video chat added in 2009. When you use Omegle you do not identify yourself through the service – chat participants are only identified as “You” and “Stranger”. You don't have to register for the App. However, you can connect Omegle to your Facebook account to find chat partners with similar interests. When choosing this feature, an Omegle Facebook App will receive your Facebook “likes” and try to match you with a stranger with similar likes. This is not okay for children.
NEITHER IS FACEBOOK, unsupervised. Jesus. This entire story could be replaced with, "Try not to raise little assholes and also keep an eye on their electronics and online activity," but then, that wouldn't give paranoiac Luddites the thrill that PHEAR THE ANONYMOUS HOOKUP APP does.
Good morning, folks!
Sorry about the outage and the subsequent flood of queued posts. Our host was brought down by a DDoS attack - hopefully it's mitigated, and the infected zombie machines' IPs are blocked from the internet forever:
"Hey - I can't get to any internet sites! I wanted to download some more virus-laden games and 'special offers' !"
OK - to business.
Seriously - it has to be hard to be a Freeper. I'm not talking about the endless freepathons, the enormous pressure to be the first to post the fauxrage of the day - I'm talking about the constant disappointment.
When you're a Freeper, there is no "happily ever after" - your heroes turn on you, your successes turn to ashes - there's never a victory. Even "successes" like Dubya slide into obilvion as the mists of hoo-hah die down and the stinking reality squats in the noonday sun like a run-over toad.
So - some of the recent disppointments, in reverse order.
First - Joe The Bummer!
U.S. conservative 'Joe the Plumber' a union man? 'You betcha,' he says
Reuters ^ | 2/19/14 | Brendan O'Brian
Posted on 2/20/2014 4:31:30 PM by Oliviaforever
(Reuters) - An Ohio man who rose to fame as "Joe the Plumber" by challenging then-presidential candidate Barack Obama on tax policy in 2008 has taken a unionized job with one of the U.S. Big Three automakers, he said on his website.
Samuel Joseph Wurzelbacher, a conservative, announced on Sunday that he recently had the "fortune of being hired by a great company", Chrysler Corporation, where all workers must be United Automobile Workers union members.
Beats welfare and starvation.
Never ever put your faith in a politician, or anybody who wants to be one. You will be disappointed.
To: Army Air Corps
Understood. It was a rhetorical question. My point is why did the guy have to make a public announcement, anyway? He simply made himself a tool for the left. Nice going, Joe!
Imagine the reception he would have gotten by his coworkers the next day if he had dissed them...
I know some people who think Mad Men is as serious, somber, and depressing as a Bergman film. It can be all of those things, but it can also be very, very funny, more like Fanny and Alexander than The Seventh Seal. A Day's Work is one of the funniest episodes ever: while still making serious points about racial and gender politics in 1969 and at SCP. The episode is set on Valentine's Day, 1969 and has some elements of classic farce with all the mistaken identity shtick going down from Shirley's flowers to Sally finding Lou (It's Not My Problem) Avery in Don's office to Cooper's consternation at seeing a black face at reception to all the white folks confusing Shirley with Dawn. Shirley is the one with the mini-fro and mini-skirt and Dawn is the prim one who dresses like a church lady, y'all.
Time for some odd (probably very odd) random and discursive comments:
P is for Petulant: Both Pete Campbell and Peggy Olsen pitch hissy fits. We've seen it all before from Pete, who is the Daffy Duck of SCP. Ted Chaough is now cast in the role of Bugs Bunny and is the one Pete considers despicable. Absent is more like it. I think Ted is depressed because LA weather means that he cannot wear sweaters half the year and that cramps his style. Pete's account idea was kinda sorta shot down but unlike the Pegster, he has a new love interest.
When Peggy arrives and sees a dozen red roses on Shirley's desk, she assumes that they're hers. She is wrong, which she could have figured out if she'd listened to Stan's jab: "Hard to believe your cat has the money." Peggy proceeds to make a complete fool out of herself: initially assuming Ted had sent them, getting mad, and then being embarrassed when Shirley finally admits they came from her fiancée. The Pegster is so flustered that she banishes poor Shirley. I hope she will be able to find her Laverne…
It's Not My Problem: We all thought Lou Avery had taken on Don's job as creative director. It seems, however, that he's SCP's resident I don't give a shitologist. Anything that Lou finds slightly irksome, burdensome or any other kind of some he deals with in the same way: Not my problem. Lou was even inordinately rude to young Sally Draper when she wandered into the office in search of her wayward parental unit. Lou's response: not my problem. Instead, he blames Dawn. Hey, at least he doesn't call her Shirley…
B is for Bigot: When Not My Problem Lou insists on Dawn's banishment, Joan reassigns her to the reception desk. Dawn is obviously too sharp for that job but Bert Cooper wants her moved. Why? He's SCP resident right wing bigot. I recall his opposition to the Civil Rights Act and Pete's attempt to tap into the "colored market." At least, Bert is consistent. Consistently wrong but consistent.
Jim Cutler Superstar: Even though he's still listed as a guest star, Harry Hamlin has been rocking the Mad Men universe this season while Rich (Harry Crane) Summer has been MIA thus far. Cutler is suave, dapper, and surprisingly ethical. When Pete tries to pull an end run around Chevy when he signs up some SoCal car dealers, Cutler keeps his eye on the big picture and insists on full disclosure.
This arcane dispute may foreshadow a struggle with Roger over the account side of the agency. My money is on Jimbo, he's even lined up our Joan as a potential ally, having noticed that her, uh, potential is being wasted shuffling secretaries and shit. Roger may be in love with Joan, but he'll always think of her as an office manager with spectacular tatas.
When Don's name comes up at the endless conference call meeting, Cutler is wittily dismissive, "Don who? Our collective ex-wife who still receives alimony?" It looks bleak for Don at SCP, y'all.
Don, Sally, and the roadside Patty Melt: Sally is back, looking and sounding more like Lauren Bacall than Betty Francis. Even without Weird Glenn at her side, Sally is the mistress of mischief. This time she uses a funeral as an excuse to escape boarding school for a day in the Village.
Unfortunately, she misplaces her purse, which leads her to Daddy's office where she is, of course, not Lou's problem. She lands at the Draper penthouse where she fences with dear old, secretive dad. Don learns from Dawn, not Shirley, about Sally's close encounter with the master of I don't give a shitology, and eventually levels with the kiddo. Sally is the only one who can tell Don to "just tell the truth" and hear it.
The episode concludes on a rare sweet note with Sally telling Don that she loves him. Don is the only one who gets any kind of loving on Valentine's Day except for Pete and it will surely-not Shirley-backfire with him as it always does.
It's a shame that this Clapton classic dates from 1970 and couldn't be used in the episode but I can, and will, use it:
Tribune Publishing Co. LLC's new CEO, Jack Griffin, may earn as much as $3.5 million annually, and could be owed $2 million if he exits after a sale of the company.
Mr. Griffin is slated to earn a $1 million salary, a potential bonus of the same amount, and a $1.5 million stock award each year, according to an employment agreement that parent Tribune Co. filed on April 11 with the Securities and Exchange Commission as part of its preparation for a spinoff of its publishing business. That transaction is expected by midyear.
He could get $2 million if the business is sold and he doesn't stay with the company, or if he leaves within 12 months of the closing of a sale, according to the agreement dated March 3. A $2 million “cash severance” is also possible if he's fired or quits. Mr. Griffin, formerly the CEO of Time Inc., was appointed to lead the Tribune publishing company last month.
So if he stays he gets $2.5 million a year, and if he quits or gets shitcanned, he gets $2 million? I can tell how you fast I'd get fired if I basically got paid if I got fired, and it would be FAST. Sit in a hammock in Jamaica and have people bring me pineapple daquiris while still collecting basically my salary? Hell yeah, son.
These severances, these "exit packages," reward failure as much as they encourage risk-taking, and while they're unconscionable in any industry, it's especially galling to see one at a news organization which is laying people off and telling those still around that it's the fault of the Internet and "changing reader tastes" and that everyone must learn to iPhone to keep their jobs.
The Ann Arbor News, owned by Advance Publications, changed in July 2009 from a daily newspaper to a web-first model that produced a print edition only twice a week, making Ann Arbor among the first American cities to lose their only daily paper. Since then, The Michigan Daily has been the only Monday-through-Friday print publication in town.
As daunting financial pressures force newspapers around the country to shut down or severely trim staff and budgets, a new model has emerged in many communities in which college journalism students increasingly make up for the lack of in-depth coverage by local papers.
“I keep questioning whether this scandal would have come out sooner if we had a vigorous local paper here,” said James O’Shea, a former editor in chief of The Los Angeles Times and managing editor of The Chicago Tribune who is now a visiting professor of journalism at the University of Michigan. “But I also don’t know if it would have ever come out without The Michigan Daily.” The place-kicker, Brendan Gibbons, has not been criminally charged.
Get it, kids.
What else can an agnostic Anglophile who was raised Greek Orthodox post on Easter?
Early morning or late night?
I used to be a late night person. Since Kick was born I've seen a lot of sunrises. Either way those dim hours seem like a secret part of the day that I never had access to before.
This showed up on the Facebook feed of my oldest friend. We grew up across the street from one another since the time I moved to the neighborhood at the age of 4. I stood up for his wedding and he stood up for mine. My parents still pick up his parents’ mail when they go on vacation and his parents reciprocate in kind.
When my mom was out of town and my dad didn’t answer the phone for three days, I called his mom and begged her to check in on him. I hadn’t called that number in at least 10 years, but it leapt to the front of my memory with ease.
He’s a “gun guy” and I’m not, but he has no problem posting marriage equality things on his wall. He’s a hell of a parent in ways I never think I will be. He once posted something horribly bullshit about Obama on his wall. When I called him on it, he told me he voted for the guy, he didn’t realize the thing was wrong and he took it down. In other words, not a stereotype but still has leanings.
I saw this thing, a perfect example of how the Internet is allowing bullshit to perpetuate and thus dumb down America, and for some reason, I felt like I got stabbed.
My salary comes from tax dollars. So does my mom’s. Teachers, janitors, garbage collectors, mail carriers and more who are all scraping for a living get paid with our forced contributions to the betterment of society.
Nobody likes it when people take money from them, not even me. However, this warped view of how all these hard-working people just pony up so that some Welfare Queen named Umfufu can pop out another welfare baby is what has led to a general bitterness in our society. It also leads us to elect people who run on nothing more than the idea of “we’ll cut taxes” and thus win in a landslide.
I called him out on it. He deflected it with a joke. I pushed back.
He finally did the “I didn’t mean YOU” thing. I let it go online, but I couldn’t let it go in my heart.
In social psychology, we refer to this as out-group stereotyping with cognitive exception. It’s when your overly broad views of a group are challenged by someone who doesn’t fit the prototype. Thus, instead of changing your views, you note that the person is an exception to the rule.
In other words, “Man, those negroes are lazy, shiftless bastards. Not you, Jenkins. You’re not like the rest of them.”
However, what people fail to see is that the rule is actually the exception.
Instead of pissing and moaning about these people who never pay taxes, look at what you get for your money:
This list is by no means exhaustive, but it illustrates that taxes do some good things, even if you don’t believe that creating a safety net for the least fortunate among us should be one of them.
There’s a reason tuition keeps going up at state schools, making it harder and harder for students to finish their degrees. There’s a reason why faculty pay has stagnated, teacher pay has stagnated and public workers of all stripes are seeing benefits slashed. There’s a reason that public inspection units can’t keep up with demands for safety checks, security watches and even criminal investigations.
The reason is we have less and less money because taxes are viewed as evil and unnecessary. Taxes are seen as the enemy, things that only benefit “the takers” of our society.
A meme doesn’t do all that, but it definitely reflects it.
Dr. A and I saw the lovely and talented Ingrid Lucia at French Quarter Festival on Palm Sunday. I was thrilled when she did a version of Do You Remember Walter by Ray Davies. It's an oldie but goodie from the Village Green Preservation LP.
It inspired me to post three count 'em three versions of this Kinks classic including Ingrid's. We'll start off with the studio version from 1968, which is fairly uptempo and piano driven:
The second version from 1994 is much slower and features some fine "Bavarian" accordion stylings. As a bonus for Breaking Bad fans, it features a Walter White montage:
Finally, Ingrid Lucia's version from her most recent release:
I know what you're thinking: that's not a cat. You're right, but this is one of my all-time favorite critter pictures, so I hereby declare Winston to be an honorary cat. Della Street disagrees but who the hell cares what she thinks? Only Oscar and he doesn't have a vote.
Winston is a hearing-impaired pitbull who belongs to my friend Lizzy in Portland. As you can see, Winston is a very agreeable chap. No cat would allow a mere human to put a Mexican wrestling mask on them. I'd like to thank Winston for being such a good boy and Lizzy for being ever so slightly bent.
Variations week at First Draft continues with two covers for this hard boiled novel. This is one I've read, and it's pretty damn good. Wade Miller is a pen name for the prolific team of Bob Wade and Bill Miller. They also published under the name of Whit Masterson, which evokes images of the Old West unlike say, Cliven Bundy, who sounds like one of Bertie Wooster's cronies:
|From Album 5|
Who wouldn't think "Gandhi" when considering the Bundy Ranch standoff? As others point out, you've got, um, cows (sacred vs. slaughter, amirite?), women as human shields, Tea Party Patriots armed to the teeth -- and Attaturk notes the Mahatma was a victim of gun violence -- so, isn't it...obvious?
We've been ignoring the first half of the Second Amendment lately, and it's getting people killed. Justice Stevens thinks we should add five extra words:
“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms when serving in the Militia shall not be infringed.”
He speaks about the history of the amendment and how it was historically interpreted; definitely worth a read.
As y'all know I am not easily shocked, but the flow of racist vitriol directed at a genuine American hero has come close to shocking me. Hank Aaron's original sin was breaking the Babe's record but his current offense, of course, is standing up for his fellow pioneer, Barack Obama:
The Atlanta Braves have been deluged with hate mail after baseball great Hank Aaron's recent comments about racism in America and President Obama's critics.
According to USA Today, the Braves organization has received hundreds of letters, emails and phone calls since Aaron made his comments a week ago.
"Hank Aaron is a scumbag piece of (expletive) (racial slur)'' read an email from a man named Edward, according to USA Today.
Edward evidently used the racist epithet five times.
"My old man instilled in my mind from a young age, the only good (racial slur) is a dead (racial slur)," he wrote in closing.
One man called Aaron a "racist scumbag," while another vowed to never attend another Braves game until Aaron is fired from the team's front office. A man named David said he plans to burn Aaron's autobiography.
I am not a violent person but reading this shit makes me want to take a baseball bat upside their empty heads. Henry Aaron is an American hero and a man with more dignity and grace in his little finger than these scumbags who dare to call him a scumbag. Hiding behind an anonymous name makes some people feel all brave and manly. I'd like to see these racist motherfuckers say that to Mr. Aaron's face but I know they wouldn't have the nerve. It's also tres classy to insult an 80 year old man.
Twas a dispiriting story to read on Jackie Robinson day, y'all. I'd like to feed those guys to Jackie circa 1952 after he stopped turning the other cheek. He'd give them a piece of his mind and perhaps a swift kick up the ass.
Now that I've vented, here's an antidote: a picture of Hank Aaron with two other heroes, Roberto Clemente and Willie Mays:
It's the 67th anniversary of Jackie Robinson's debut as the first African American major league baseball player. He's being honored at ballparks across the country by folks wearing his number, 42. I'm honoring him here by posting the 1962 picture above with MLK, and this awesome tune written in Jackie's honor by Buddy Johnson and recorded by Count Basie: